


A Helping Paw

by river_soul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: Your beefcake neighbor has the world’s cutest cat who loves showing up outside your apartment (and sometimes in your apartment). Too bad he’s a total asshole with an attitude problem.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 168





	A Helping Paw

**Author's Note:**

> Come say on Tumblr!

It’s after midnight when you hear the scratching at your door and a pitiful yowling sound that you’re becoming increasingly familiar with. For a moment you consider doing nothing, exhausting from your 12-hour shift at the hospital, but after a minute your conscience gets the better of you. You amble, half asleep, to your front door and open it just wide enough to bend down and pick up the white cat that’s sitting patiently on your welcome mat. When the cat immediately settles in your arms and rubs his face against yours, purring in contentment, you have a hard time remaining annoyed.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble, thankful Alpine is in the mood for cuddles this evening and not a game of catch me if you can around your apartment. 

The first time you opened your door to him he darted into your apartment and you spent the better part of your Sunday afternoon chasing him around your living room and kitchen. Of course, nothing beat the time you’d woken up with him curled up in bed with you. How he managed to get into your locked apartment was still a mystery. 

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you say to him as you shuffle out of your apartment, squinting at the bright light of the hallway. 

The cat’s owner, one J. Barnes, lives six doors down from you. You’re not actually sure what the J stands for since you've never been officially introduced. Every time you bring Alpine back he scowls at you like you’re responsible for the Houdini act his cat pulls on the regular. He only said thank you once but you suspected that was more for the benefit of the tall blonde man who’d been visiting. The few times you’ve run into him in the hallway, sans cat, he doesn’t acknowledge you. Which fine, whatever. He’s the resident asshole with an attitude problem. You totally don’t care that he’s a beefcake with beautiful blue eyes. 

“Gonna steal your cat one of these days, asshole,” you mutter, raising your hand to knock on his door.

You only have to wait a few minutes before the door is jerked open forcefully. You’ve clearly woken him up, his clothing is rumpled and his chin-length hair is mussed. You expect a frown or terse words but instead, he looks surprised, his gaze sweeping down your body with raised eyebrows. 

It’s then you realize you’re only wearing an oversized t-shirt that barely covers your ass and one, single purple sock. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment and it’s possible you shove the cat into his arms with a little more force than is necessary before hightailing it back to your apartment. When you pause at your door to look down the hall you’re surprised to see him still standing there, a dumbfounded expression on his face. 

\--

Three days after what you’re going to refer to as “The Incident”, you come home to find Alpine sitting on your dining room table. He watches you with wide blue eyes, his tail swishing back and forth gently. 

“No,” you tell him. “Absolutely not.”

Alpine meows in response, jumping down to twist around your legs. He rubs himself against you, leaving little white hairs behind on your blue scrubs and purring in contentment. 

“You embarrassed me last time,” you say, wagging a finger at him. Alpine’s only response is a slow blink, his expression unconcerned. With one more meow, he darts off into your bedroom to curl up on your pillow. 

“Fine, you can stay until I’ve had a shower and dinner. Then it’s back to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Asshole.”

After your shower you change into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweater, taking a moment to primp your hair into something presentable. You think about putting on some makeup or maybe just lip gloss before you shake your head in annoyance. 

You’re not trying to impress the jackass in 7b. Nope. Not at all. All that matters is that you’re fully clothed the next time you see him. You don’t need to look good for him. He’s probably one of those guys who only dates women who live at the gym anyway. You remember the redhead you saw him with last month, she looked like she could crush a man to death with her thighs. 

The chime of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts. You grab your wallet from the coffee table on your way to the front door, impressed by how quickly the Thai delivery guy arrived. When you pull the door open you’re not expecting to find your beefcake neighbor on your doorstep. For a moment all you can do is stare at his broad chest, the way his muscles seem to strain against the fabric of his red henley.

“You got my cat?”

The tone of his voice snaps you out of your trance and you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“Would you like to try that again?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest as a surge of righteous anger makes you stand up a little straighter. “Maybe start with ‘Hi neighbor whose name I don't even know because I am such a rude asshole. How are you this evening? Thank you again for bringing my cat back to me the last 400 times he escaped.” You challenge, eyebrow raised.

For a moment he does nothing, blinking at you in surprise. You imagine he’s taken aback by your diatribe since he’s normally pretty quick to cut you off with a brusque comment or a door in your face. 

“Well?” you ask him when all he does is continue to stare.

“I’m sorry?” he tries, sounding a little unsure. 

When you shoot him an unimpressed look he grimaces, running a gloved hand through his hair. 

“Shit. I’m so bad at this,” he mutters, loud enough for you to hear. You watch a cute little frown form on his face as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shouldn’t have said shit in front of a lady. Damn it.”

Watching him you’re torn between amusement at his clear distress and your own lingering anger. 

“Can I take you to dinner?” he asks and then it’s your turn to stare at him in surprise at the sudden shift in the conversation. “Sorry I was an ass. I want to take you to dinner. To say thanks,” he clarifies. 

You’re a little stunned to find he looks nervous, his brows drawn together in concern.

“Ok,” you agree, your voice sounding unsure to your own ears. “Let me get your cat,” you tell him, turning around to find Alpine sitting on the coffee table. He’s ignoring both of you as he munches happily on the package of tuna fish you gave him earlier. 

“Come on bud,” you say quietly, ignoring the plaintive meows he lets out when you scoop him up. You deposit him gently in Bucky’s arms.

“Friday night work for dinner?” he asks as Alpine climbs his chest and nuzzles his face. “7 pm?”

“Sure” you agree with a smile, pleasantly surprised at how your evening’s turning out. “Just let me know where we’re going so I can dress accordingly.” 

“Well,” he starts with a grin, “wherever we end up I can promise you pants are required. I know you struggle with that sometimes.”

The dirty wink he sends you before he turns around leaves you gaping at his retreating figure.


End file.
